


Speak no Words

by Shadowedcries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Murder, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 15:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowedcries/pseuds/Shadowedcries
Summary: This is a remake of a prompt given to me by the lovely NinjaFairy.Also thank you Kyoki for editing! Love ya girl :)Hopefully this story sounds better the second time around :PPrompt: Tomione. Post-Apocalyptic, muggle AU. Zombie outbreak.Enjoy!





	Speak no Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NinjaFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaFairy/gifts).



> This is a remake of a prompt given to me by the lovely NinjaFairy.  
> Also thank you Kyoki for editing! Love ya girl :)
> 
> Hopefully this story sounds better the second time around :P
> 
> Prompt: Tomione. Post-Apocalyptic, muggle AU. Zombie outbreak.
> 
> Enjoy!

_ “We don't fall in love with people because they're good... We fall in love with people whose darkness we recognise. You can fall in love with a person for all of the right reasons, but that kind of love can still fall apart. But when you fall in love with a person because your monsters have found a home in them-- that's the kind of love that owns your skin and bones.” _

_ “Love, I am convinced, is found in the darkness. ” _

―  **C. JoyBell**

**~*~**

She was down there again, staring into the sterile sheen of a steel painted room. The lights were dim, flickering hopelessly at the low levels of electricity running it’s system. Her fingers kneaded helplessly into the bridge of her nose as she leaned back against the  autopsy table. As a doctor, she felt hopeless knowing that another of her people had been lost. As a survivor, she was disgusted by the manner these women had died.

It was simply unheard of in their circumstances… at least it _should_ have been. 

When hope for the virus’s containment had failed, Hermione had returned to the hospital she ran and decided: ‘ _ If this world was going to be her reality, than she was going to continue to do her job and save anyone she could _ ’. Tom bared her stubbornness with a grin and together they spent months fortifying the grounds. Even longer searching for survivors.

Hermione pulled her cheek between her teeth and bit down. There was  two  young women laying in her morgue, their bodies long gone stiff with rigor mortis. She released a slow, defeated breath when her hounding questions found no answers. She had thought she understood the people she had given shelter too, but as she stared at those steel doors she realized she had been wrong.

It wasn’t just that they had lost a few members. They had lost many to the monster’s outside these hospital doors; some people never came back from supply runs and some just went missing entirely. No… this was different because these woman had been  _ murdered _ \-- strangled to death by someone  _ within  _ the walls of their sanctuary. 

She would have thought them to be crimes of passion, accidents that came with anger and stress, had the killer not removed the women’s eyes. The killer was sadistic and there was a large possibility they possessed socio-- or even--psychopathic behavior. It had been a week since the last incident but Hermione  _ still  _ couldn't make sense of it.

Grey eyes fluttered into focus when a hand smoothed it’s way between her back and the cold table. Tom must have been watching her from afar, waiting silently for her too realize his presence. How long had he waited before he decided to intervene? Her fingers dropped their hold in order to drink him in without the obstacle obscuring her sight. He was watching with a guarded expression, something as cold and endless as his glacier gaze. Her lips quirked to the side as she absorbed his disapproving stare. He hated that she continued to linger on this murder, but she ignored his pleas to end this ‘unhealthy’ behavior.

Hermione granted Tom a soft smile before she removed herself from his presence. She didn’t go far, simply far enough to continue her silent battle with the steel tombs on the opposite side of the room. “Hermione.” Tom hushed her name but the vowels lingered with longing. His hand caught the tips of her fingers. Tight and desperate, they tethered her to his presence. “Come  _ back  _ to me.” 

“Tom,” Hermione sighed softly. The latest murder haunted her dreams as of late, even now the woman seeped into the waking world to demand Hermione’s attention. Tom had been her anchor to sanity during this time, he kept the thoughts at bay with peppered kisses against her skin and silent whispers in her ear. “I can’t keep ignoring this, I should have seen the signs. This woman’s death is on my han--”

A distant screech came crashing against metal doors, stealing the words from Hermione’s tongue. She would have tensed had Tom not yanked her back into his hold. He squeezed her tight and pressed his lips into the crown of her head. A shiver made its way down her spine before she leaned back into his chest to bask in the strength he possessed. They had been informed earlier that those  _ monsters  _ had found them, so his strength was all she really had left.

Creatures. Monsters. Animals? Hermione scoffed, despite all her medical knowledge, she had no other words for them.

The virus that afflicted them spread across the world like a plague; it attacked the mind and rotted away the frontal tissue of the brain. That is what changed them, the loss of brain mass brought out the animalistic nature that remained dormant in the modern human. So these beasts remained primal and violent, simply because that is all that was left of them. 

Tom turned her in his arms and hooked his fingers under her chin. She followed his pull, granting this silent demand for her attention until she was staring up at him. Tom’s solemn expression lifted when he smiled down at her. He hushed the tension away with a sensual purr that lifted from his vocals and enchanted her ears with it’s song. 

There were times she became lost in the darkness of their world. The years of watching death bloom around her swallowed hope and left a husk of loss in its wake. He came to her in these times and scooped up whatever remained of her and poured life back into her soul one sensual movement at a time. Perhaps it was terrible of her, but in the end it was pleasure that reminded her that she was still  _ alive _ . 

She mewed softly when he sealed her woes with his clever tongue. It always began slow, a gentle caress that made Hermione melt and surrender to his will.

She hardly noticed when he lifted her from the floor, the response to hook her legs around his waist was entirely automatic. It was until the seething cold bit into her thighs that she realized Tom had sat her down on the autopsy table. It was wrong, so very,  _ very  _ wrong, but the way he curled against her sex blurred this war sanity waged on her resilience. She needed this-- She needed  _ him _ . 

Despite the monsters howling in the background. Despite the bodies locked away in the far corner of this deathly cold room. She needed to forget it all, so she sought freedom from the toned plains of his skin. She sought vigour with every sinful pulsation of desire she drank from his soul. 

“My sweet,” Tom purred against her lips, drawing a moan from her tongue as his fingers dug into the meat of her thigh. It hurt, a damning reminder that blood still thrummed through her skin and lit like gasoline to his fire. She quivered against his heat and drew in the lustful need to touch the flame hidden beneath his skin. She acted without thought-- driven by a force that was as animalistic as the creatures they feared and began to eagerly pull his shirt from his shoulders. “hungry,  _ Hermione _ .”

He weaved through the cloth in one curling wave. His strong muscles, built from the years they spent surviving this horror they called life, flexed and defined his skin with pretty words she did not dare to speak. She used to wonder how someone maintained perfection when the world around them crumbled… but Tom was unfazed by this horrible change, he simply accepted its disorder and continued without further thought. She shivered the moment his gaze was unmasked from that damning fabric and caved. 

“Look at me,” His hand cupped her jaw in one violent jerk. She did. She looked at him with all the hatred she possessed due to this inanition for life that had been left upon her shoulders. He told her once that the fire hidden in her honey eyes was intoxicating, a liquor that drowned his senses and still demanded more. 

His free hand dug into her hip, coaxing a gasp from her lips so that he could swallow the sounds she made. Something in her adored the way he managed to pull air from her lungs. Tom’s silver tongue had her body convinced that it didn’t need to breathe; it  _ only  _ needed him. 

She smiled against his lips when her eyes opened to find him still watching her, eager to swim in the amber of her eyes. “ _ Hermione _ .” Her name rumbled across his chest and echoed down her skin. Electricity rose to the surface of her skin to meet the sound and together they traveled deep into her core. 

Hermione stilled when Tom stopped their kiss. Her breath splashed against his face and rebounded to heat her own, it was strange to see him so deep in thought in a moment like this. “Tom--” Her voice was broken by a yelp that forced itself from her vocals.

The hand that once held her chin curled against the base of her skull, fingers rooted securely by the mass of curls that hung loosely from it’s bun. Tom had yanked her head back until she couldn’t look up further. There was no question that Tom towered over her meager five foot five and it granted him the ability to witness the eye-watering pain that flickered across her face. To witness as her whine of discomfort turned into a moan of hunger.

“So eager. _.. _ ” Tom dipped down to brush his lips against the lone tear that streaked across her cheek. She knew she shouldn’t be. There was something wrong about being eager in a place like this. Surrounded by death; monsters outside their doors and the lifeless tucked away neatly behind a steel wall.

“Please, Tom” 

He unshackled his hand from her hair and dropped to grant her plea for salvation. He lingered, fingers toying the hem of her buttoned blouse. “Tell me you are mine.” his lips pressed a kiss to the skin below her ear and let the growl ripple across her skin.

Hermione choked on the moan that built itself a home inside her chest, a string of longing that had no intention of leaving. She fought it, she battled her greedy cries to give favor to the words he so craved. “I am...” A gasps had all but silenced her the second his teeth sunk into the crook of her neck. “ _ yours. _ ” Tom forced this cry from her when his bite began to pierce her flesh in punishment.

Tom’s breath was blurring the world around her in the same manner the cool air was beginning to numb the skin he unwrapped from her clothing. “Again.” A lustful sob rattled her ribcage when his lips dusted her bosom with adoration, pausing his internal worship to suck the tender peak into his mouth. 

She curled in on him and anchored her fingers into his thick black waves. “I am yours” she sang the words and smiled as his hair muffled the enchanting tune. A mischievous way to both grant and deny his command. Tom wound an arm around her waist with a dark laugh. It chimed harshly against her ears and promised a cruel journey forward. 

He lifted to capture her mouth with a longing kiss and a prayer that breathed words against the rose dusted flesh. “The power you hold on me unnerves me to no end, Hermione.” She smiled gently against his lips when Tom rocked against her bare heat. His hand curled against the back of her neck, pulling her lips to his in a more forceful manner. 

He was staring into her eyes again, torn between his hunger and his need to see the world through her eyes, so she moved for them. Her heels drug him closer, nudging with silent please to complete her. All it would take was a simple movement, one strong motion and they could be one-- a single flame that fueled their lives and lit their dark world. 

“It used to anger me,” Bliss shot across her skin when he sank into her sex with a violent thrust. She wanted to laugh, but the pleasure rendered her mute. “I had never hungered for something so strongly before.” Tom had been the fire to her oil, a volatile combination that lit vigorously and often. They had hated each other once… long ago before time had taught them to love the hellfire that surrounded them. 

Hermione pressed a gentle kiss to his brow, adoring the weakness that came tumbling from his perfect persona. She was determined to be his strength, just as he had been hers. She coaxed him on, waving into every thrust and demand he had to offer. 

“It _had_ to be you,” His words were beginning to feel heavy, the weight a secret she was never meant to hear.

Tom pulled her aggressively against his lips in a new form of dominance. This unmasked hunger he was displaying was unfamiliar and far more violent than she had experienced before. “Tom.” She hiccupped his name with a sound enticed by the pleasure he bestowed upon her. His words should have been frightening despite the way he whispered these sweet  _ somethings  _ into her skin, but she could barely find the energy to harbour such emotions. 

“No one else sufficed.” Hermione went rigid when these new words sparked across her spine. The fear grew, something so tangled and knotted that it made her insides roll nauseously. “They were  _ never  _ enough.”

“T-Tom?” The words tumble from her vocal with a quiver. She didn’t know the exact reason why, but she suddenly found her eyes drifting toward the steel wall that blurred their reflection in a mocking manner. Her legs tightened around his waist while her palms pressed against his chest. She needed space because couldn't breath past this horrid truth he continued to spell across her skin. 

Their fire was beginning to be smothered by the abyss that was the real Tom Riddle. She could only watch horror as he made grand steps into a tar they called oblivion, Hermione secured tightly in his arms. Unable to flee. Unable to _escape_ … and far too scared to.  She realized now why he remained unflawed by their traumatic world. Darkness cannot break you when your mind's already made of darkness. Her honey gaze fell to the door that contained the women whose blood would forever stain Hermione’s hands and  _ finally  _ understood of what Tom spoke of.

“Their eyes were  _ always  _ wrong.”


End file.
